Silver Jews perform UK debut through a furball
Maybe it was because David Berman was too close to his mic, or perhaps it was the wrong kind of mic.
No, last night's highly anticipated* Joos concert suffered from the Scala and its terminal 'acoustic mud' problem; amps appropriate for Brixton Academy - or perhaps a small outdoor festival - being employed in a smaller, boxier space but nonetheless blasting at arena volume.
I'd pretty much vowed never to go there again for these very reasons. My excitement upon discovering that the S.Js had suddenly renounced their non-live ethic was slightly dampened when I realised they'd be playing at The Venue Formerly Known As a Great Cinema.
Listening to the Bermans & their (excellent) live band in this muffled setting was particularly frustrating because with the Silver Jews, the lyrics genuinely are the central focus.
The desire to get the words you'd paid to hear meant constantly relocating yourself in the people-cramped labyrinthine interior, a journey which included the Fawlty Towers nightmare of walking up stairs to get downstairs.
Finally, my friend Anna and I stood on some seats in an alcove on the third level, just in time to catch the last three songs.
The sound was better from there although all you could see was a guitar neck, a cymbal and D.C. Berman's thinning double crown.
(*which includes the 13 or more years we've all waited to see them play, in some form or other)
No, last night's highly anticipated* Joos concert suffered from the Scala and its terminal 'acoustic mud' problem; amps appropriate for Brixton Academy - or perhaps a small outdoor festival - being employed in a smaller, boxier space but nonetheless blasting at arena volume.
I'd pretty much vowed never to go there again for these very reasons. My excitement upon discovering that the S.Js had suddenly renounced their non-live ethic was slightly dampened when I realised they'd be playing at The Venue Formerly Known As a Great Cinema.
Listening to the Bermans & their (excellent) live band in this muffled setting was particularly frustrating because with the Silver Jews, the lyrics genuinely are the central focus.
The desire to get the words you'd paid to hear meant constantly relocating yourself in the people-cramped labyrinthine interior, a journey which included the Fawlty Towers nightmare of walking up stairs to get downstairs.
Finally, my friend Anna and I stood on some seats in an alcove on the third level, just in time to catch the last three songs.
The sound was better from there although all you could see was a guitar neck, a cymbal and D.C. Berman's thinning double crown.
(*which includes the 13 or more years we've all waited to see them play, in some form or other)
posted by The Dicksonian Institute at 12:31 am
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